Love

counting my blessings October 6, 2008

It is noisy here. My parents laugh when I call them to complain. But it is noisy. I never liked it too loud. I always asked my mami to talk lower in the morning. Bad move. She would only talk louder.

It is the same temperature as it is everyday in San Francisco but it feels different. It is crisp here. No air coming from the Pacific. Crisp not clean, smells of cars, sounds of crackling leaves. I walk for hours. My friend said that it seems that I walk slower now. I tried to blame it on the heels but I do walk slower. The Bay Area has mellowed me out that I don’t know whether to cross the street before the signal or not.

I am sitting in a cafe listening to rock with a whole bunch of hipsters and I am wondering why I picked this place. But I bought some food and some tea so i gotta stay to get my money’s worth.

That is all. My writing. All annoyed wishing that I really did live in brooklyn because if I did then I can go to my place and chill there for a bit before going to my friend’s house. So, I am thinking instead I will finish writing and walk around with my heavy bag and look at things I can’t buy.

I really do have to laugh at myself because my life isn’t all that bad just a moment of wishing it was a bit different. I am blessed, you know. Being here is a blessing. Having friends out here is a blessing. Meeting new friends is a blessing. The opportunity to perform out here is a blessing. Being able to talk to my parents everyday is a blessing. Loving and being loved is a blessing.